The Final Funeral
by Cede
Summary: Every tradition has a reason, every funeral has a story. I am reposting it after several revisions... normal pairings
1. Chapter 1

Ok so I am reposting this story after several revisons and now I fear I might have actually lost the final chapter on my computer! So I am re-ordering my story while I look for it on the blasted thing.

Oh and I obviously don't own Rent... I Rent it. te he!

_April Firgins- September First, Nineteen Eighty Eight _

_Angel Dumott Schunard- October Twenty-Ninth, Nineteen Ninety _

_Mimi Marquez- February Twelfth, Nineteen Ninety-one _

_Roger Davis- March Sixth, Nineteen Ninety-One _

_Maureen Johnson- December Twenty-Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six _

_Joanne Jefferson- December Twenty-Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six _

_Thomas Collins- May Sixth, Two Thousand and Six._

Death is always difficult, especially when they are so young, with so much potential… 

The Small church was packed. I would put down my paycheck that no one knew that it was suicide, and if any did they didn't know why. No one wanted us there, we knew that, but what did they think? That we wouldn't come?

_We must try and remember April, as we knew her best…_

Roger hadn't talked since the police came and took a statement. He wasn't eating, barely sleeping, we didn't know what to do with him. He just sat there in the pews staring at the closed casket. We sat in the back, trying to avoid stares from the locals.

_I remember that she was always willing to help…_

She was from Ohio, so we were the foreigners here. They all knew one thing, even if they didn't know much else, and that was that we were supposed to be hated. When we first came we all walked up to see her one last time. We stared at her high school photo, that wasn't the April we knew. Roger started to pull one of the flowers from the arrangement on her casket; it was then that the mother saw us.

"YOU BASTARD!" she screamed at Roger, "YOU KILLED MY BABY!" He didn't even acknowledge her, staring at the flowers.  
"LOOK AT ME YOU SON OF A BITCH! LOOK AT ME!" He didn't.

It was Collins who stepped forward; creating a wall between the two he tried, unsuccessfully, to calm her down, "Ma-am. He didn't kill her, it wasn't his fault. Ma-am. Please." It took her husband to pull her away as she continued screaming profanities at us.

_At these times we must trust that God has a reason for all of this…_

Maureen squeezed my hand and I looked at her and smiled. God. I love her. I had come to accept her in all of her glory, and even was coming to terms with her wandering eye. The pastor continued for a few more minutes before his closing prayer. We took that as our leave to go.

_We must forget regret…_

We started the drive back, still in silence. As we crossed the state line Roger spoke, in a slight whisper, "Do you think we should have given them our picture of April?"

Collins turned on his turn signal, "Which one?"

"You know, the one where she is flashing the camera. That was always _my_ favorite." He brought about the first round of laughter in a long time.

She lived for Today… 

We continued along the highway back to New York City. Our Home.

_No Day But Today. Let us Pray._


	2. Chapter 2

Um. I don't like to write these, so sometimes I wont. Like just now. I am not writing one, that doesn't mean I am Mr. Larson, I just don't feel as if I need to stress the point. It's pretty obvious.

_April Eriksson- September First, Nineteen Eighty Eight  
Angel Dumott Schunard- October Twenty-Ninth, Nineteen Ninety  
Mimi Marquez- January Seventh, Nineteen Ninety-One  
Roger Davis- February Fourteenth, Nineteen Ninety-One  
Maureen Johnson- December Twenty-Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six  
Joanne Jefferson- December Twenty-Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six  
Thomas Collins- May Sixth, Two Thousand and Six._

I am going to skip Angel; we all know what's going on there. If you REALY want me to do it tell me (I might think about it)

_Death is always a trial, especially when they are so young, with so much potential. We must try and remember Mimi, as we knew her best…_

This time we were sitting all together in the front pew, where the family normally sits. Mimi's mother was there too. But, unlike April and Angel's she didn't ignore us, or attack us, she talked to us, accepting us.

Behind us were from some girls from the Cat Scratch Club, Benny, and Life support. Bringing the count to twenty-five.

Roger couldn't handle it, he was a wreak, he thought she was saved that Christmas eve, but that was only the beginning.

The ambulance came and took her away. We followed right after them. The doctors gave us a grim report. She had phenomena, frostbite, withdraws and, of course, AIDS. Roger ignored him completely continuously telling him that she was awake and coherent when we found her, that she wasn't that bad.

She didn't last long in the hospital, the fever came back, and an infection settled in her lungs, it just went on and on. Roger never once left her side.

He had to be pulled away from her bed when the funeral home came. His eyes were tired and tear stained, his body, broken from a combination of exhaustion and sorrow. Collins stayed beside him the entire time, his rock. I felt, useless.

We started a tradition that day, putting a vase with three roses on her casket, one for her, one for April and one for Angel.

We left, slowly, in the cemetery; she was laid next to Angel, whose grave was still dirt and frost covered.

We ate quietly with Benny and her mother, back at the apartment.

"I think I am going to head back to Santa Fe." Roger quietly said. That brought about a wave of astonishment. He hadn't talked hardly at all.

"It's amazing, you can lose yourself there," He turned to me, ""Mark, I have never seen any thing like it- no people, no sign of humanity no matter how hard or far you look." He turned to Maureen, slowly getting more worked up, "Maureen, you would be in heaven, the amount of conservation laws being broken would keep you busy for months." Pausing, "But, most of all I wouldn't remember her there."

He laid his head down on the table, barely missing the untouched plate of food, and started to cry again.

Collins found me while I was trying to fit all of the food in the refrigerator, "Mark, he is bad, real bad, he isn't going to make it."  
"What are you saying? Of course he is, he's stubborn." I replied standing back up, casserole in hand.  
"No, he wasn't near this bad when April died, and he barely lived through that."  
"He will get through it. I know he will."

Within the week we admitted Roger into the hospital.


	3. Chapter 3

Ya. Um. Not Jonathan Larson, duh.

_April Eriksson - September First, Nineteen Eighty Eight  
Angel Dumott Schunard- October Twenty-Ninth, Nineteen Ninety  
Mimi Marquez- January Seventh, Nineteen Ninety-One  
Roger Davis- February Fourteenth, Nineteen Ninety-One  
Maureen Johnson- December Twenty-Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six  
Joanne Jefferson- December Twenty-Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six  
Thomas Collins- May Sixth, Two Thousand and Six._

Within a week of Mimi's death we admitted him to the hospital. It wasn't his idea, it wasn't the answer in mine, but we had to. He wouldn't eat, barely slept, and had acquired the worst cold I had ever seen. They kept him there until the end, he followed the same downward spiral that Mimi had gone down only weeks before.

He had parents, and siblings, they had called for him when he left, but I don't remember any other time before that.

It felt like a show down, his family on one end of the room, us, on the other. Benny was the first to speak, "Have you given consideration as to where Roger should rest?" He was also in a nice suit and so spoke without hesitation. His mother stared at us like we were freaks, cocking her head slightly to the left.

"What?"

"It's just that, a lot of his friends and his girl friend is buried here."

"Did they have…" His father indicated towards the wall.  
"AIDS? Yes." All of us remained silent throughout the entire conversation, even Joanne, our other spokesperson stayed still.

"How did he? He never told us."

"Does it matter anymore?" Benny raised an eyebrow at the question.  
"No. It doesn't." Replied the father, defeated.

"I know its what he would've wanted Mr. Davis, he loved Mimi."

His mother's head popped up at the name, "Who's Mimi?"

"His girlfriend ma-am."

"I thought he was dating a girl with a name like May or June."

"April died back in '88."

"Oh." She replied, shocked.

Before the funeral started, all of his family, including us was in the back room, drinking water and talking to each other. Everyone that was wearing Armani basically ignored us, except of course Benny and Joanne. I was going over some final planes with Collins when his sister approached me. She was probably the same age that Mimi would have been, but she looked younger and older than her at the same time. "A lot of people die here. Don't they." Collins raised his eyebrows and walked over to the punch bowl again, leaving me with her.

"Umm. Yes."

"Why? Besides Rog, I don't know anybody who died." Her voice slightly broke at his name.

"A lot of people are sick, your brother was one of them."

"I still don't understand. Are you 'sick'"

"Me, no! I don't have, I mean I never. No."

"Oh."

"Your brother was an amazing guy, his life was just, harder than most. He loved two women very much and they both died very young, trust me, he led a lot of life. Don't feel sad, he saw the country. Did you know that? He drove from here all the way to New Mexico, saw places I can't even imagine."

"That is something he would do." She said with a smile.

His parents allowed us to put two vases on his casket, we had won the battle with them, he would be buried beside Mimi and Angel, but the victory came at a price. We had to pay for the lot. We split it up three ways, with Maureen and Joanne taking a third, Collins and I taking another third and Benny covering his part alone. It might have upset our plans a little, but it was worth it.

After the funeral the five of us went to the life café giving in to all of the ironies of the situation. Collins and I looked at each other, deciding how to break the news of our plans to the others. Collins started. "You guys don't know this but, well we all had this crazy idea about setting up a restaurant. Out west." A wave a shock ran through the other three. With a swallow I stepped in.

"We can get a car for real cheep and I'm going to get a loan from my parents. It's really possible. It wouldn't be anything big but, its not like we have any big reason to stay here anymore."

"And we are?" asked Maureen.

"On the other side of the city. You don't need us. We don't really need you. I mean we won't lose touch, we can meet up for holidays and stuff like that."

Collins continued, "There are always teaching gigs almost everywhere so even if it went under we could get jobs, I as a teacher obviously and Mark doing camera work somewhere."

Benny stared at the two of us intently, of all of us he would know if it was realistic or not, so it was his approval that we hoped for. "Do you think you can actually run a business, by yourselves?"

"It's worth a shot." I shrugged.

"It's worth more than a shot!" Joanne smiled, "There is nothing out here, hell, we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the firm. Who knows? In five years we might be right behind you."

"The mass exodus from NY." Collins replied with a smile.

Benny stood up and held his beer high, "To, to the New Yorkers!" We all followed suit.


	4. Chapter 4

Once again I stress the fact that I am not the reincarnation of Jonathan Larson come back to write fan fiction. Duh.

_April Eriksson - September First, Nineteen Eighty Eight  
Angel Dumott Schunard- October Twenty-Ninth, Nineteen Ninety  
Mimi Marquez- January Seventh, Nineteen Ninety-One  
Roger Davis- February Fourteenth, Nineteen Ninety-One  
Maureen Johnson- December Twenty-Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six  
Joanne Jefferson- December Twenty-Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six  
Thomas Collins- May Sixth, Two Thousand and Six._

We were hosting our annual Christmas party at the New Yorker when the phone call came. I grabbed the cordless from behind the counter and went outside to answer. Inside was a mixture of alcohol and merriment. The weather was mild, and it wasn't so cold that I needed a coat.

On the other line I heard Benny's voice, racked with fear and tears, "Mark, there was an accident. Maureen and Joanne were coming to my apartment for a dinner, and the other guy was drunk. Mark, they died." He told us to come back to New York on the next flight, that our group had shrunk once again.

I hung up, feeling drained. I went back inside and told Collins, who was, in turn telling his own stories. His face fell and became somber. He suddenly stood atop of the chair then and called for everyone to be quiet while he toasted.

"To those who have preceded us! Let they never be forgotten, and may there sprits be at peace." Everyone drank and began talking again.

He turned to me with a smile, "we can't end the party now, we will leave in the morning."

Their caskets sat next to each other in the front of the church and we all had our say about them. In between their caskets set two vases, one holding two tiger lilies and the other several roses. Only the three remaining bohemians knew what they meant.

The three men that were left all went to a bar and drank. They couldn't enjoy it though, knowing that was the reason for their deaths. Mostly we just stared into our mugs quietly. Benny, as usual, was the first to speak.

"How is the restaurant?"

I looked at him, thinking what? "It's good, real good."

"Why didn't you go to Santa Fe?"

Collins laughed, it was rather funny, "We ran out of gas. And there was a position open at a local college there."

"How is Muffy?"

"Allison. She's good, we are looking into adoption you know..." he trailed off staring at the wall. "I didn't think it would happen like this. When we were younger you know, they were all so young, and were…not."

"Nobody thought it would be like this. You don't think that your best friends would never live to see thirty or forty."

"Or twenty." Collins cut in. "Mimi was only twenty."

"You don't want to imagine that."

"Do you want a girl or a boy?" Collins asked.

"Both." Collins chuckled, "Allison has it in her head she wants a dozen kids." We all smiled at that, "We are going to try just one at first. Were looking into adopting from Russia or Macedonia, somewhere exotic."

"Moscow is exotic?"

That night we got back onto the plane, it was December twenty eighth, we rode back home surrounded by happy families marveling over their gifts. I hated flying, worse than almost anything, I could never sleep during the entire flight. Collins, of course was fast asleep snoring so bad that even if I could sleep on planes he would have kept me up. On my other side was a kid, couldn't have been more than twenty. _Twenty, God when was I twenty?_ He wasn't sleeping either, though his head was in a catalog. _Of course_ I thought,_ musicians friend_.


End file.
